


Captain Cockblock

by candycanedarcy



Series: Captain Cockblock [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky is an idiot, Clint is an idiot, Communication Failure, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Clint Barton, Idiots in Love, Lack of Communication, M/M, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Misunderstandings, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Clint Barton, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Natasha Romanov, Steve is a cockblock, the avengers don't appreciate tony enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 06:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candycanedarcy/pseuds/candycanedarcy
Summary: Bucky is in love with Clint. Clint is in love with Bucky. You'd think they would be together by now, right? Wrong.There's just one little thing standing in the way of them being together. A little thing named Steve Rogers.





	Captain Cockblock

**Author's Note:**

> Hello folks! Yes, it's been a while, hasn't it? So I was thinking to myself 'I want to read a WinterHawk fic where they're both idiots but it turns out okay in the end' and then I thought 'hey dummy, you're a writer!" Thus Captain Cockblock was born. 
> 
> Thanks to my amazing not-beta @DumpsterDiving101, who refuses to be called a beta (even though she technically did all the beta work) for making me write this, and finish it, and post it, and help me figure out the tags, and give me a kick in the ass to start writing one-shots instead of full-length fics.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Bucky**

It’s not like Bucky meant to fall in love with Clint. Hell, he didn’t even mean to like the guy. But Clint was so infuriating with his stupid ‘aw shucks’ grin and his dumb obsession with that one-eyed dog and his weird thing with coffee and his fluffy hair and endearing clumsiness and - shit. He just made it so flippin’ easy to like him and then Bucky only spiralled from there.

 

Bucky was just sitting in the kitchen at ass o’clock in the morning, nursing a cold cup of coffee and minding his own damn business, thank you very much, when in stumbles Clint, half-asleep and adorable as fuck. He trudged over to the fancy coffee machine Stark had on the counter, pressed a few buttons and sighed loudly. 

 

“You all good, Barton?” Bucky asks softly, trying not to startle the man. Clint doesn’t answer and Bucky realizes he must not have his aids in. Bucky shakes his head fondly, gets up, and walks over to Clint, putting a hand on his shoulder. Clint yelps, jumping a foot in the air and coming crashing down onto the floor.

 

“Aw, gravity, no,” Bucky hears him say from the floor.

 

Poking his head over the counter, Bucky smirks at him.  _ OK _ ? He signs at him and Clint nods. He pulls something bright purple out of his pocket and sticks them in his ears. “You new around here? Gravity’s been a thing for a while now, I think.”

 

Clint grunts and pulls himself up using the counter, putting his face within kissing  _ (fuckfuckfuck) _ distance of Bucky. “‘M fine, no thanks to you,” he says, “My ass is gonna be sore in a couple hours though.” Bucky nearly swallows his tongue trying to hold his dirty comment in. “What are you even doing up this early, man? Shouldn’t you be in bed dreaming of giving the Murder Glare to Tony next time he tries to touch your arm?”

 

Despite himself, Bucky snorts. “Steve snores and I couldn’t sleep anyway. Thought I’d come in here and scare the shit out of some unsuspecting archers.” 

 

Clint chuckles and takes a sip of his coffee. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

 

_ So are you _ , Bucky doesn’t say. “That’s because of the temperature.” He deadpans. Clint’s face goes slack and Bucky is about to apologize (for what, he doesn’t know, all he knows is that he never wants to see that look on Clint’s face again) and then Clint giggles. Actually  _ giggles _ .

 

“Aw, dad jokes, no,” Clint says, shaking his head sadly. “Steve is supposed to be the one who does dad jokes around here, you’re just not the type.”

 

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “And what type am I, Clint?” Clint swallows, and Bucky stares at his throat openly. 

 

“Buck, there you are!” Bucky turns and sees Steve in the doorway, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed, I got worried. Oh, hey Clint.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes and turns back towards Clint, opening his mouth to say something but not getting the chance. Clint brushes past him, muttering something about getting in early practice time at the range. He claps Steve on the back as he walks out the door, clutching his purple mug. Bucky groans loudly and slams his head onto the table. “Steve. I swear to my mother, your mother, and every other terrifying thing in this world, if you ever cockblock me that bad again, I will shoot you.” 

 

Steve looks at him. “Aw, Buck I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you liked Clint. I didn’t even know you liked guys. Is that a new thing?”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes and got up from the stool he was sitting on. “Yes, Steve. Brand-new. I just woke up this morning and thought, gee, you know what I want? A nice, big, juicy helping of cock. That would hit the spot perfectly. Fuck’s sake, Steve.” Shaking his head, he walks away grumbling, leaving a baffled Steve behind him.

 

“So you  _ do _ like Clint?”

 

~~~~~~

 

After The Kitchen Incident , Bucky hardly saw Clint anymore. The rare occasions he did see him, Clint ran out of the room like his ass was on fire. Bucky had thought no one else was seeing Clint either, at least until Bucky walked into the kitchen and saw Clint and Tony having a lively debate on why Tony should make Clint some prank arrows. 

 

“No, Legolas! I’m not making you super-sticky arrows to shoot at Steve when you get bored!” Tony says, amused.

 

“Aw, Tony, no.” Clint whines, on his knees with his hands clasped in a begging position in front of him that does  _ not help _ Bucky’s imagination in the slightest. 

 

“C’mon Stark, let the guy have some fun,” Bucky adds, smirking. It took a really, really long while, but eventually Stark forgave him for being the weapon used to kill his parents. It helped when Bucky brought him the man who actually gave the order. They’ll never be best friends, but teammates is an improvement on sworn enemies, Bucky thinks. 

 

At the sound of his voice, Clint shoots up onto his feet, mumbles something about a building in Bed-Stuy he has to check on, and then disappears from the room like he was never there. Tony raises an eyebrow and looks at him, and Bucky just sighs, shrugs and goes back to his room.

 

And Bucky understood it was maybe a little awkward between them, really, he did. But after a month of being treated like he had the world’s worst odour, he was tired of it. And he wasn’t the only one.

 

“What did you do?” Natasha hisses at him, cornering him in the gym one day.

 

Bucky blinks. “There’s seventy years of murder, torture, and various other crimes in my history. You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

 

“Clint has been weird for the past  _ month _ , and I am sick and tired of it. He’s mopey and whiny and miserable, so what did you  _ do _ ?” She says, through gritted teeth.

 

Bucky is honestly surprised that she’s even confronting him. They have an unspoken agreement to stay out of each other’s lives, no matter how many times Steve tries to get them to like each other. “I don’t know what I did. I flirted a little and I thought he was reciprocating, and then Steve cockblocked me, and then he left! I’ve been trying to talk to him for the past month, but he never stays in the same room as me long enough.”

 

“What did Steve say?” She says, laser-focused on that nugget of information.

 

“I don’t know, asked me why I wasn’t in bed or something, I think. What does that matter?” Bucky says, frustrated. Natasha calls him an idiot in Russian and walks away. Bucky blinks after her, confused. “Okay?” He says to the empty room. Befuddled, he walks up to the kitchen, thinking about his encounter with Natasha. Distracted, he walks over to the fridge, opens the door, and stares into it blankly. 

 

“Shut the door if you’re not going to eat anything, Buck.” Steve shoulders past him and pulls some of his nasty protein powder out of the cupboard. “You’re wasting energy and costing money. Not like Tony can’t afford it, but still.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Just because someone can afford to do something, doesn’t mean that they A) should, and B) that we should take advantage of Tony’s generosity. We all mooch off of him enough.” Steve stares at him. “What.” Bucky raises an eyebrow.

 

“You just don’t normally defend Tony, that’s all,” Steve says, pouring his protein stuff into the blender. 

 

“Well, maybe I should start.” Bucky slams the fridge door shut and stalks out of the kitchen, in a bad mood with no idea why. Okay, maybe he has a little idea. A clumsy little blond hearing-impaired idea. Grumbling to himself and not watching where he’s going, he rounds a corner and slams into somebody, sending them flying. 

 

“Aw, gravity, no,” Clint’s voice pierces through the fog of Bucky’s bad mood and he immediately brightens. Then he realizes that he’s mad at Clint, and his scowl makes a comeback. 

 

Attempting to be not a dick, Bucky offers a hand and says, “Gravity’s still a thing, just so you know.”

 

Clint accepts his hand but visibly stiffens at the sound of his voice and Bucky sighs internally. “Jarvis, you traitor,” Clint mumbles, eyes downcast.

 

Pulling him up, Bucky notices that Clint’s nails are a vibrant purple. He processes that, and then, “So you have been avoiding me! What the hell, man? I thought we were friends!”

 

Clint winces. “Look, Bucky, I -”

 

Bucky holds up a hand. “Clint, I’ve been wracking my admittedly messed-up brain for a month, trying to figure out what I did wrong. And I have no clue what it was, so I’m just gonna apologize for everything I’ve ever done that could possibly give you a reason to avoid me for a month.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I broke your favourite mug and didn’t tell you. I’m sorry that the replacement mug I found wasn’t the same shade of purple. I’m sorry I stole your gray hoodie and never gave it back. I’m sorry I beat your score at the range six weeks ago, even though you took it back and have kept it since then. I’m sorry I -”

 

“Bucky, stop,” Clint says, sounding tired. Bucky’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m not mad, I just- I just needed a little space.”

 

“Whatever I did to make you feel like you needed space, I’ll never do it again,” Bucky swears. He knows immediately that this was the wrong thing to say as Clint visibly deflates and nods. Bucky just wants to make him feel better, so he puts on a smile and says, “Wanna go check out that donut shop on 8th? I hear their maple cinnamon donut is to die for!” Clint nods, a weak smile on his face. Bucky moves to put his arm around Clint’s shoulders, but Clint jerks away. 

 

Fine, Bucky won’t touch. He gets it if Clint needs some time to get back to how they were before. If friends are all they can be, then he’ll be the best damn friend on this side of the country.

 

~~~~~~

 

**Clint**

First of all, Clint never wanted to avoid Bucky. He didn’t even consider it as an option, really. But after Steve came into the kitchen that morning, he figured he didn’t have a chance anyway, and avoiding Bucky was just the next logical step in getting over his feelings. 

 

Secondly, Clint never meant for the whole avoiding Bucky thing to go on for so long. He just thought that a little space couldn’t be a bad thing in helping him get over Bucky. It’s not like he ran away to Canada or something - that happened one time, and Nat still hasn’t let it go.

 

Finally, it’s not like Bucky even returned Clint’s absurd feelings. He, very clearly, had a thing going on with Steve - which was fine, okay, really. They were the romance of the century, Steve fought everybody for Bucky and broke through seventy years of mindfuckery and torture, plus they literally  _ died _ before they saw each other again. It’s not a big deal and Clint’s a big boy anyway. He is perfectly capable of accepting limitations and moving on. Really. 

 

“Stop moping,” Natasha says from beside him, where she is very focused on painting his nails.

 

“I’m not moping,” Clint says, moping.

 

“Yes, you are.” Nat finishes his left hand and moves on to his right. “You should just talk to him, Clint. Tell him how you feel.”

 

“I can’t do that, Nat.” When she raises a questioning eyebrow at him, he just shakes his head and sighs. “I just can’t, alright? It wouldn’t work,  _ we _ wouldn’t work.” Nat rolls her eyes. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you know him better than me just because he trained you however long ago.” Clint knows he’s said the wrong thing when Natasha stills. She finishes his nails in silence, packs up her stuff and leaves his apartment without another word. Clint groans, waving his hands in the air to dry them quicker. 

 

“Why did I do that, J?” Clint asks, staring at the ceiling. 

 

“I believe it was a poor attempt to get Agent Romanoff to stop talking about ‘feelings’, Agent Barton,” JARVIS says disapprovingly. “I think it will take a while to make that up to her.”

 

Clint groans again, louder this time. “Is Bucky anywhere near the kitchen, J? I’m hungry.”

 

“Sergeant Barnes is currently down in the gym with Captain Rogers. I believe they will be there for a while.” 

 

Shooting finger guns at the wall where he knows JARVIS’ camera is, he winks. “You da man, J.”

 

“I most certainly am not, Agent Barton, a man. What you meant to say was ‘you are the bomb dot com JARVIS’ and I thank you.” JARVIS says dryly. 

 

Clint chuckles, shaking his head at the AI’s wit. Leaving his apartment, he starts the walk towards the kitchen. It still amazes him how something that started as a bunch of ones and zeros on a screen can grow into as close to a person as you can get without having a body. He doesn’t think it often enough, but he really should thank Tony for all that he - Clint is knocked onto his ass when he slams into something hard facefirst and falls over. 

 

“Aw, gravity, no,” Clint mutters, preoccupied with his aching ass.

 

A hand enters his field of vision and an achingly familiar voice says, “Gravity’s still a thing, just so you know.”

 

Clint tries not to, but his whole body tenses up as he takes Bucky’s hand. “JARVIS, you traitor,” He mutters, unwilling to look up and see the anger that’s sure to be in Bucky’s eyes. 

 

There are a few seconds of silence, and then, “So you have been avoiding me! What the hell, man? I thought we were friends!”

 

Clint winces. “Look, Bucky I -” Bucky stops him and starts to apologize for a bunch of things that don’t even matter, really, and Clint is gearing up to tell him how he feels - as much as he hates emotions (they’re gross and always come up at the worst times, like, oh,  _ right the fuck now _ ) this is a conversation that needs to happen, squishy emotions and all. “Bucky, stop,” Clint says, and the exhaustion in his voice must be  _ super _ clear because Bucky just shut his mouth and waits for Clint to continue.  _ Do you give orders as well as you take them Bucky,  _ Clint doesn’t say.

 

Clint means to tell Bucky how he feels, really he does. But then his brain catches up with his mouth and he just, “I’m not mad, I just - I just needed a little space.” He grimaces at how fucking  _ stupid _ that sounds - Jesus, Clint, could you be any more fucking weird?

 

“Whatever I did to make you feel like you needed space, I’ll never do it again,” Bucky says, and the truth of it is so clear in his voice that Clint just deflates. The only thing that Bucky could be referring to is the flirting in the kitchen - which Clint was really into, by the way, and then stupid Steve had to come and ruin it. Which isn’t fair to Steve, really, Clint knows he’s not stupid. So Bucky just swore never to flirt with Clint again, probably at the behest of Steve. 

 

Clint just nods and pastes a weak smile on his face, his whole body aching to get to the kitchen, grab some coffee, and go back to wallowing in his apartment for a few days. “Wanna go check out that donut shop on 8th? I hear their maple cinnamon donut is to die for!” Bucky grins at him, the excitement clear on his face. Clint sighs internally and nods again, jerking away when Bucky tries to sling an arm around his shoulders. 

 

And he notices the flash of hurt that crosses Bucky’s face, he absolutely does, how could he  _ not _ , but he makes no move to correct his actions. If Bucky doesn’t want to flirt anymore and just wants to be friends, then Clint will be his friend.  _ Only _ his friend.

 

~~~~~~

 

The next month or so passes in much the same way, with Bucky hanging out with Clint and going to the shooting range with him and getting food with him and walking Lucky with him. Clint tries to keep a reasonable distance, he really does, but Bucky is just so damn charming and happy all the time that it’s hard for Clint to remember his promise to be just Bucky’s friend. Sometimes Bucky will say something, and Clint will get his hopes up and think  _ maybe _ , but the next day he will see Steve and Bucky together and he just gets crushed all over again.

 

On the bright (is it really the bright side, though?) side, there has been no more flirting by either Bucky or Clint. Clint made up with Natasha by getting her a pair of fuzzy socks with dolphins on them - she may not look like it, but the woman loves her fuzzy socks. And if anyone notices how Clint goes quiet when Steve and Bucky are in the same room as him, they don’t say anything. Natasha raises her eyebrow at him once, but he just shakes his head and she drops it, probably not wanting a repeat of their fight.

 

And then, of course, it all goes to shit. Clint is actually in a really good mood for the first time in a long time - he and Bucky are gonna go to the shelter where he found Lucky to try and find Bucky a pet too. Bucky does a lot better when Lucky’s around, so Clint offered up the idea of a service animal and Bucky loved it. So they made an appointment and they were gonna grab lunch first, and JARVIS told Clint that Bucky was in the common room so that’s where he was headed. He hears the sounds of a scuffle ahead of him and assumes that Tony and Bucky are fighting for the remote again.

 

When he walks into the common room, it takes him a second to process what he’s seeing. Steve is on top of Bucky who has his hands fisted in the back of Steve’s shirt, and Bucky is saying something to Steve but Clint can’t hear him over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. Clint turns around and walks out of the common room silently, mind racing.

 

How could he be so stupid? What kind of idiot forgets that the man he is in love with is in a relationship with the paragon of American beauty? Clint yells at himself silently all the way back to his room. Furious with himself, he storms over to his closet, yanks out a suitcase and starts shoving clothes and other necessities into it. Giving a sharp whistle to call Lucky, he closes the suitcase, grabs and attaches Lucky’s leash, and catches the elevator to the shooting range, where he grabs his bow and about fifty arrows, and then to the garage. 

 

“Hey, JARVIS?” Clint says, his voice hollow. 

 

“I will not inform anyone of your whereabouts, Agent Barton. Might I suggest telling one person where you are going so they do not worry?” JARVIS says, the sound of his voice soothing. 

 

“I am telling a person, J. I’m telling you.” Clint leans his head against the cool glass of the elevator mirror. “If Nat asks where I am, you can tell her, okay? But only Nat. And don’t let her come after me, either. I need some space right now.”

 

“Certainly. Be safe, Clint.” JARVIS says. The doors ding and Clint leaves the elevator, shoving his suitcase into the backseat of the closest car he sees and putting Lucky into the front seat. The car rumbles to life and Clint roars out of the garage, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind him.

 

~~~~~~

 

**Bucky**

It’s been a good month, from Bucky’s perspective. He and Clint have been hanging out almost every day; getting food, walking Lucky, having stupid contests down at the shooting range. Things are almost back to the way they were, with one minor difference: Clint hardly lets Bucky touch him anymore. 

 

It’s not like they were attached at the hip before, but they cuddled on the couch during movies and sat beside each other on missions. Casual touches, like a hand on Bucky’s shoulder if Clint was passing by, or flicking Clint on the nose when he said something dumb, those were gone.

 

Bucky didn’t realize how much he loved touching and being touched by Clint until he couldn’t do it anymore. And sure, Clint never outright said, “Hey Bucky don’t touch me anymore,” but the sentiment was pretty clear. On movie nights, Clint sat in the one-person armchair instead of the couch where they usually sat together. When they headed out to a mission, he walked right into the pilot’s cabin and didn’t come out until they had arrived, and then did the same thing on the way back.

 

And it’s not like Bucky couldn’t take a hint, okay, after the first few rejected touches, he stopped trying. But without all the touching Bucky was used to getting by Clint, he was feeling a little touch starved. So when Steve came into the common room one day and flopped down on top of him when Bucky was lying on the couch waiting for Clint so they could get Bucky a service pet, Bucky didn’t exactly push him away. 

 

Granted, Bucky was about half an hour early from when they were supposed to meet, but he was driving himself nuts pacing in his room by himself. So Steve flopped onto him, and Bucky tensed before he realized who it was, and then Steve pinned him to the couch and covered his mouth so Bucky couldn’t exactly tell him to fuck off.

 

Bucky mumbles something into Steve’s hand, and when Steve doesn’t react, Bucky licks him. Steve screeches and wipes his hand on Bucky’s face and then the two of them cuddle in silence for a little while, but when Bucky tries to shove Steve off of him, Steve won’t let go.

 

But Stevie, the stubborn little shit that he is, just holds on tighter and mutters, “Don’t wanna get up, Buck.” Bucky rolls his eyes, knowing full well that Steve’s just being a shithead. “C’mon, Stevie, I’m s’posed to meet Clint in a couple minutes and you remember what I said the last time you got in the way of that?”

 

Steve grunts. “You wouldn’t shoot me, you love me too much.”

 

“It’s because I love you that I’d shoot you, punk. Now get off!” Bucky grabs the back of Steve’s shirt and throws him onto the floor, snorting when Steve looks at him with betrayed eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, you fucker. Get off your lazy ass and go talk to Wilson or something.” Bucky gives Steve a smack on the ass, relishing in his shocked yelp as he scurries out of the common room. Chuckling to himself, Bucky turns on the television.

 

He’s watched a couple episodes of Dog Cops - don’t judge him, Clint got him into it and it’s surprisingly addictive - when he realizes that Clint should have been there an hour ago. Getting off the couch, Bucky cracks his back and turns off the TV. He walks down to Clint's room, knocking on the door and opening it without waiting for an answer. “Hey arrowhead, you still sleepin’ or something?” 

 

When he doesn’t get an answer, he moves further into the apartment. Poking his head into Clint’s bedroom, his jaw drops and he throws the door open. It looks like a bomb went off in here. The dresser’s been emptied halfway out onto the bed and there are clothes literally everywhere. A t-shirt hits Bucky in the face as he walks under the light, which is still on. That’s when Bucky knows something is wrong. Clint never leaves the lights on if he’s not in a room. 

 

Already making a list in his mind of what could have happened to Clint and where he could be, Bucky turns around and practically runs down the stairs to the shooting range. When he sees that Clint’s bow is gone, that’s when he starts to panic. “Hey, JARVIS?” Bucky says, jogging towards the kitchen. 

 

“How can I help, Sergeant Barnes?” JARVIS asks.

 

“Can you tell me where Clint is? I’m worried about him.” Bucky looks inside the kitchen and just sees Steve crowding Wilson into a corner, the both of them smiling. 

 

“Unfortunately, Sergeant Barnes, I have been instructed not to tell you of Agent Barton’s whereabouts,” JARVIS says, sounding apologetic.

 

Bucky stops dead. “By who? Was it Natasha? That little -” Bucky starts cursing in Russian, making an abrupt turn and heading towards Natasha’s room.

 

“It wasn’t Agent Romanoff, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS says. 

 

“Then who was it?” Bucky growls, throwing his hands into the air.

 

“Agent Barton.”

 

Bucky stops dead. Again. “Clint? Clint asked you not to tell me where he is.” Bucky’s mind is reeling. He racks his brain, trying to remember everything he’s done in the last week that he could warrant this. He comes up empty. 

 

“Agent Barton requested that I tell no one his whereabouts, Sergeant Barnes. He said, and I quote, ‘I need some space right now,’ and I do believe he meant it. At this point, it would not be wise to go after him full force.” JARVIS states, sounding apologetic. Again. Because sounding apologetic does so much for Bucky’s mental state right now. 

 

Running a hand over his face, Bucky sighs. “Did he tell you why he needed space, JARVIS? Because I’m comin’ up blank, and I’d like to try and fix it.”

 

JARVIS is silent for a few moments, and right when Bucky is about to ask again, JARVIS says, “He did not tell me why he needed this time, but if I may make a suggestion, Sergeant Barnes?” Bucky waves his hand, knowing JARVIS can see him. “I believe it was because Agent Barton walked into the common room just before you threw Captain Rogers onto the floor. I fear he may have gotten the wrong idea about you and Captain Rogers.” 

 

Bucky’s jaw hits the floor. “Are you telling me that Clint thinks me and Steve are together? Like,  _ together _ together? That’s ridiculous, Steve’s family to me and he’s got a thing for Sam anyway.” 

 

“I do not believe Agent Barton knew about Captain Rogers’ and Airman First Class Wilson's blooming relationship,” JARVIS says.

 

“Even so, how can he think that me and Steve are together? It’s not like we act like it. Do we?” Bucky stops, thinking over the last few months. He smacks himself on the forehead and starts walking again. “When Steve came into the kitchen that day, what he said made it sound like we were sleeping in the same bed. When I apologized for upsetting Clint and swore never to do it again, he thought I was never gonna flirt again. And then when he saw me and Stevie wrestling on the couch earlier… Christ, I’m such an idiot.”

 

“If I may, Sergeant Barnes, I believe it is Captain Rogers who is the bigger - pardon my language - moron here,” JARVIS says, sounding almost amused. “And I believe two months ago, you made him a promise? I think it’s time to fulfill that promise.”

 

“You know what, JARVIS?” Bucky says, walking into the range and pulling out the modified paintball gun he had Stark make for him, “I think you’re right. And I think it’s time the punk learned his lesson. Mind telling me where he is, J?” 

 

“He is currently in the kitchen, Sergeant, along with Sir, Agent Romanoff, and Airman First Class Wilson. Would you like me to record this?” JARVIS asks smugly.

 

“Abso-freakin-lutely,” Bucky growls, “I want to remember this.” Bucky stalks up the stairs, keeping his footsteps silent. He walks into the kitchen, unnoticed by everyone except Romanoff, whose eyes widen when she sees what's in his hands. She scrambles off the stool she’s sitting on and vaults over the dining table, taking refuge behind a thick slab of oak wood. Bucky raises the gun, takes aim, and fires a neon pink paintball at the back of Steve’s head. It hits him with a satisfying smack and the kitchen goes silent. Then everyone bursts into motion. 

 

Steve whirls around, a bewildered look on his face. He raises his hand to the back of his head, and when it comes away pink, he looks even more confused. “Buck, are you okay? What’s this about?”

 

Wilson swears and leaps backward to avoid the paint splatter, tripping over the legs of a stool and falling on his ass. 

 

Stark also leaps backwards, but he does it while laughing and it’s even funnier when he also falls on his ass, tripping over his own foot in an attempt to get away quickly.

 

Bucky fires again, green this time. This one hits Steve right in the chest, and some of the paint flies into his mouth. As he sputters and tries to get the paint out of his mouth, Bucky pulls the trigger again and again and again. Blue, red and purple spatter all over Steve’s clothes and skin, and some even gets onto Wilson and Stark. The only ones standing unmarred at the end of Bucky’s rampage are Natasha and Bucky.

 

Bucky stalks towards Steve, murder in his eyes. “Do you remember what I told you two months ago in this very room? And do you remember what you said to me just a couple hours ago in the room upstairs?” 

 

Steve blinks and then his eyes widen. “Aw, Buck, I didn’t mean to, I swear. And was this really necessary? This stuff’s gonna take hours to get out.” He starts wiping at his shirt, smearing the paint.

 

“Try weeks, Steven. It’s a special blend I had made just for you. It is the  _ least _ you deserve.” He snarls, shoving the gun into Steve’s chest and storming away. He makes it to his room and slumps against the wall after he locks the door. “JARVIS, no one is to come in here, understand? Steve told me super-soldiers can’t get drunk, but I’m damn sure gonna do my hardest.”

 

~~~~~~

 

**Clint**

Clint feels… stable. Coming here always has that effect on him. When he’s here, he’s not Clint Barton, Hawkeye, Avenger, hero. He’s just Clint Barton, landlord. When Clint first started living in his building in Bed-Stuy, it was owned by the mob. Clint had a polite conversation with them, they agreed to leave, and he woke up the next morning with the deed to the building stuck to his door. With a knife. They come around occasionally to try and get the building back, but a look and a couple of words from Clint - and on one memorable occasion, Nat - and they go off running again. 

 

Clint does his best to be a good landlord. He keeps the water and power running, makes sure all the apartments are warm in the winter and cool in the summer, isn’t a dick about rent. He thinks he does a pretty good job at keeping his tenants happy and judging by the copious amounts of food and drink he receives whenever he comes here, he would say his tenants agree.

 

His apartment here is nothing like his place at the tower. This one is homier, more of a place to live than just a place to sleep. When he walks in the door, precariously balancing the food he got from his tenants in one hand and his bags in the other, he can feel the tension melt from his spine. He tosses all the food into the fridge, his bags into his room, and flops down onto the couch with a groan.

 

Lucky shoves his cold nose directly into Clint’s open mouth and Clint groans again. “Alright, alright, I’ll feed you.” He rolls off the couch and feeds Lucky then goes into the bathroom to take a shower. The water takes a minute to heat up and Clint takes that time to look at his reflection in the mirror

 

“I look like shit,” He says, staring. There are bags under his eyes the size of a walnut, his lips are chapped and dry, and his skin looks like someone splashed white paint all over him. “I think there may have been another reason for all that food, huh boy?” Clint hears Lucky’s answering woof from outside the bathroom and grins. After his shower, Clint feels worlds better and he walks into the kitchen, whistling a tune. 

 

The whistling dies on his lips when he spots his favourite purple mug on the counter. The one he grabbed without even thinking about it. The one that was apparently broken and replaced before Clint even noticed it was gone. The one that was in the kitchen that night two months ago. Suddenly filled with rage, Clint storms over to the stupid mug and hurls it against the nearest wall.

 

It shatters, Lucky barks, and Clint falls to his knees amidst the broken shards. A sob rips its way out of his chest, and once that one happens, Clint can’t stop the rest. Great, heaving sobs that make it hard to breathe fill his apartment and eventually Clint yanks out his hearing aids and leaves them on the counter. After a couple of minutes, the sobs stop and Clint is just sniffling and rubbing his eyes. Lucy whines and shoves his head into Clint’s arm. Clint gives a wet chuckle and buries his face into Lucky’s fur. “I’m glad at least you’re here for me, boy.” He stumbles over to his bedroom and climbs under the covers, still sniffling. Lucky climbs up onto the bed with him and Clint sniffles and cries for a little bit longer, and eventually falls into a restless sleep.

 

~~~~~~

 

**Bucky**

Four days after Clint left the tower, Bucky was roused from his slumber on his couch by someone pounding on the door. Groaning, he yanks his door open, only to be pushed aside by Natasha. “What the fuck do you want?” He growls, following after her. 

 

“Take a shower, put on some actual clothes, eat something. Move.” She shoves him into his bathroom, tosses in a towel, and slams the door behind him. Bucky grumbles the whole time but does as she says and takes a shower. When he emerges from the bathroom half an hour later, pink-faced and damp, she simply raises an eyebrow at him. “Better?” Bucky nods sheepishly, then opens his mouth. 

 

She holds up a finger. “You don’t get to talk. You get to listen. I told Clint four months ago to tell you how he feels, and again three months ago, and again two months ago and last month. He didn’t listen to me. When Steve came into the kitchen that night, he came to my room and sat there in silence for two hours while I comforted him and then he left as if nothing had happened. When you guys said you made up the first time, he was going to tell you how he felt but then you made him think he didn’t have a chance. I’m not  _ finished _ .” She snarls at Bucky when he opens his mouth again. Bucky blinks.

 

“The month leading up to the latest fiasco was the happiest I had seen him in a long time, and then it was ruined. Yes, I know that was Steve’s fault, and believe me, he will be  _ spoken to _ about that. You have spent the last four days wallowing in your own filth, trying to drink your sorrows away. That is unacceptable.” She sits back, arms crossed, and raises an eyebrow.

 

“Firstly, I don’t know where he is -” 

 

She interrupts him. “Are you telling me that the Winter Soldier doesn’t have any contacts he can reach out to? None whatsoever?” 

 

“Secondly, he made it quite clear that he wanted and needed space -”

 

“And since when has that stopped you? Last time he said he wanted space, you chased him around for a month, and then spent another month trying to make him never want or need space again.”

 

“Thirdly, while I may be crazy about Clint, it doesn’t seem fair to shove all this onto him.” Bucky gestures at himself and Natasha snorts.

 

“If you think all your issues have even registered on his radar, you are sorely mistaken. Clint is so in love with you, there are very few things you could say, do, or think that would make him even raise an eyebrow. He deals with me, doesn’t he?” 

 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t deal with you, he loves -” Natasha sits back on his couch with a pleased look on her face. “I’m an idiot,” Bucky says.

 

“Yes,” Natasha agrees, “But not an irredeemable one. Clint’s at his building in Bed-Stuy. Directions have been loaded onto your bike. Clothes, lunch, go.” She gets up and leaves while Bucky sits in shock on his couch, still in his towel and likely leaving a damp spot. Then he springs into action, pulling on some clothes and grabbing an apple from the fridge. Apple in his teeth and still zipping up his pants, Bucky slams into the elevator doors, which open  _ far too goddamn slowly in his opinion _ . 

 

“Sergeant Barnes, can I assume you are going after Agent Barton?” JARVIS sounds pleased.

 

Bucky nods, chewing his apple. “I’ve been an idiot, J. I need to make this right.”

 

The door dings open and Bucky races out, barely hearing JARVIS’, “I wish you the best of luck, Sergeant Barnes.” He starts up his bike and roars out of the garage, head filling with thoughts of Clint. He pushes the speed limit the whole ride over, making some barely legal turns and running a couple lights. When he arrives at the address Natasha gave him, he runs up to the door and bangs his fist on it loudly. 

 

A little old woman pulls open a small window and stares at him. “Please, ma’am you have to let me up. I’ve made a big mistake and I really need to fix it.” The woman stares at him for a few more seconds, then slams the window shut. Bucky groans and lets his head fall onto the door. Then the door is pushed open. 

 

“If you hurt him, there will be some very strong people after you,” she warns. 

 

“Ma’am, if I hurt him, I’ll find those people and hand myself over,” Bucky promises, already moving towards the stairs. 

 

“He’s in apartment 6C. You might have to ring the doorbell if he doesn’t have his aids in.” The lady advises, then hobbles back into 1A and shuts the door behind her. 

 

Bucky grins at the closed door and runs up six flights of stairs, winded when he gets to the top. He flings open the stairwell door and rushes towards 6C, stopping dead when he reaches it. What is he gonna say? How does he explain the last few months? What if Clint tells him to leave? What if - Bucky is brought back into the real world when the door to apartment 6C swings open.

 

~~~~~~

 

**Clint**

Clint has been in his apartment for four days. Four days of no responsibilities (other than his landlordly duties), no world-ending events (does a newborn baby in 4F count?), and most importantly, no Bucky. It’s not that Clint doesn’t miss Bucky, he does. He misses him like crazy. But he understands that this time apart will help him get his head back on straight.

 

“Hey, Lucky? You wanna go for a walk, buddy?” He coos, laughing as Lucky comes bounding over to him, carrying the leash in his mouth. “I can’t put your leash on if you’re chewing it, pal,” he says, smiling at the dog. Clint attaches his leash and grabs the poop bags, sticking them in his back pocket as he opens his door. He stops dead when he looks up into Bucky’s slate grey eyes which are wide with panic.

 

The two men stare at each other in silence for what seems like hours but is probably only a couple minutes. Clint drinks Bucky in like he’s a sponge. Both of them jump when a feminine voice comes up behind Bucky and squeals. “Aww, Pizza Dog’s back! Do you wanna go for a walkie-poo? Hmm?” Kate Bishop comes jogging up the hallway from 6A and grabs Lucky’s leash from Clint’s hand. “Don’t worry about walking him, Clint. I got this one. You look like you have some stuff to sort out anyway so I’ll bring him back in a couple hours, kay?” She flounces away, cooing to Lucky the whole time. 

 

“Kate lives here. She walks Lucky sometimes.” Clint says, wincing over the obviousness of it. 

 

“I gathered that,” Bucky says gruffly. “I think we need to talk.”

 

Clint nods and moves away from the doorway into the kitchen. “Do you want anything? Water, beer, vodka, grape juice box?” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “It’s for the kids in 4F! Their mom just had a baby so I have them over here sometimes so she can get some sleep.” 

 

Bucky shakes his head. “Of course you’re good with kids,” he mutters. 

 

Clint takes a deep breath. “Look, if you’re here to tell me that I’m being ridiculous and to get over it because the team needs me, then save it. I’ve already told myself that enough over the last few days and I was gonna come back at the end of the week.”

 

Bucky opens his mouth, then stops short. He furrows his brow. “That’s what you think I came here to tell you? Clint, why on earth would I say something like that?”

 

“Because it’s true? Lord knows everyone else has said it enough times over the years whenever I came here that it should’ve sunk in by now.” Clint rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “I don’t want to be rude, but if you’re not here to tell me that, then why are you here? I’d like to catch up with Kate.”

 

Bucky has several false starts before he actually gets anything out, but Clint waits patiently. “I’m here because I love you, Clint.” He holds his hands out, palms up, with a shy smile.

 

Clint scoffs. “That’s not funny, Barnes.” Bucky visibly flinches and looks at him with wide eyes. “What, you figured out how I’ve been in love with you for the better part of a year and decided to play a prank on me? Haha, look at the silly, little, unenhanced human’s feelings, what a loser! Well, joke’s on you, pal, because I’m over you. I got over you the second I saw Steve on top of you on the couch.” Clint spits all of this out without pausing for breath, chest heaving at the end. 

 

Bucky stares at him for a few seconds, and then, with a decisive nod, he says, “You’re lying.” He says it with such confidence that it startles a laugh out of Clint, which he is instantly annoyed with. 

 

“And what made you come to that conclusion?” He says, raising an eyebrow.

 

Bucky takes a step closer. “For one, the way you looked at me when you opened your door.” Clint takes a step back.

 

Bucky takes another step forward. “Second, the fact that you haven’t kicked me out yet.” Clint takes another step back and the backs of his knees bump the kitchen table.

 

Bucky takes a final step forward, leaving his chest pressed against Clint’s. “Third, the fact that your heart is racing so hard right now I could hear it even without my super-ears.”

 

Clint swallows and Bucky watches his throat with predator-like intensity. Clint is transported back to that night in the kitchen, just before Steve walked in. Steve! Clint shoves Bucky away and vaults over the table, keeping it between him and Bucky. “What about Steve?” He asks, not quite sure if he wants to hear the answer.

 

“Steve is like a little brother to me, Clint. And besides, he has a massive crush on Sam. I think he actually did something about it the day you left. I saw them in the kitchen when I was looking for you.” Bucky grins at him, clearly expecting this to resolve all their issues. 

 

“But what about when he said you weren’t in bed? And what about when you swore you’d never flirt with me again? And what about when Steve was on top of you on the couch four days ago?”

 

“Steve and I share an apartment until Tony finishes mine, you dolt. Steve is a super light sleeper so when he couldn’t hear me breathing through the walls, he got worried.” Bucky moves around the table slightly, closer to Clint. “When I swore I’d never do it again, I was actually referring to whatever made you need space from me. I thought I’d done something wrong.” He takes another couple steps towards Clint, so they are on the same side of the table. “And when Steve was on top of me on the couch, he was just being a shithead and refusing to get off. He knew how I felt about you and refused to move when I told him I was meeting you.” Bucky holds out his hand and Clint stares at him. “You gotta believe me, doll. I would never do anything to hurt you. Not ever.” 

 

Clint is silent for so long that Bucky almost drops his hand. But then Clint grabs it tentatively and says, “I hog the covers. I snore if I’ve had too much coffee. I’m a pain in the ass to deal with on my good days, and I tend to disappear on my bad days. You’ll have to give me backrubs because I’m old and human, and you’ll have to learn to love Lucky too.”

 

Bucky grins wildly and pulls Clint towards him. “I have too many damn covers on my bed, you can hog them all you like. Your snores sound like kittens, doll, won’t be a hardship. You may be a pain in the ass, but you’re my pain in the ass, and no matter how long or where you disappear to, I’ll be waiting for you with a fresh cup of coffee and an episode of Dog Cops for when you come back. I happen to be pretty good at backrubs and Clint, I will love that damn dog almost as much as I love you.”

 

Clint raises an eyebrow. “Your pain in the ass? I don’t remember agreeing to anything of the sort, Barnes.”

 

Bucky gets shy, “Well, only if you wanna, doll.”

 

Clint lets him stew for a couple seconds, then grins, big and bright. “Of course I want to, you big lug.” Bucky whoops and pulls him into a kiss that leaves both of them breathless and grinning. 

 

The two men fall onto Clint’s bed and talk and kiss and kiss some more over the next couple hours, interrupted only by Kate bringing Lucky back - she takes one look at them, with their big grins and messy hair, and lets out a cheer that Clint thinks wakes the baby in 4F. “Good for you guys,” she says, handing Lucky’s leash over. Turning to Bucky, her voice goes deadly quiet and she leans in and whispers, “If you hurt him, this entire building will come after you. And Mr. Lee in A1 used to be a security guard. And a mailman. And a strip club DJ. But that’s beside the point. Hurt him, and I will end you. Slowly.”

 

She winks at Clint and bounces away. Bucky turned to Clint and says, “I’m a little scared of her.” Clint grins.

 

“Yeah, I trained her in threats a couple years ago,” he says, proud like a papa bear.

 

They go back inside and kiss some more, interrupted once again by a knock on the door. Before they can get off the couch to answer it, the door opens and Natasha walks in. She takes one look at them and smiles. “I’m glad you boys were able to pull your heads out of your asses.” They all share a laugh. “Now, who’s ready for some revenge on the major obstacle in this beautiful love story; Captain Cockblock himself, Steven Grant Rogers.”

 

Clint and Bucky look at each other, then look at Natasha and grin. “Oh, we are  _ so _ in.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? I hope so. Onto things:
> 
> 1) I really, really, REALLY, need a beta of my own. I have a bunch of fics in the works that just don't want to work, and I need some help. Leave a comment if you're interested!
> 
> 2) This was my first one-shot so tell me how I did! I'm curious to know what you think!
> 
> 3) Thanks for reading, have a great day/night/time of day wherever you are! :)
> 
> 4) Follow me on the tumbles


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